


Darkest Hour

by tri5ia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Attempted Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Violence, Danger, Dark Comedy, Domestic Violence, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fantasy, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Kidnapping, Multi, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Other, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28707975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tri5ia/pseuds/tri5ia
Summary: "Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don't fool."-Robert BraultYears had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts and peace of mind had yet to find its way to Draco Malfoy. Desiring nothing more than to live a life undisturbed, all the effort he'd invested into hiding himself away proved to be in vain when unlikely allies show up to his door, bearing disturbing news. With no choice but to aide the very people he had once denounced, Draco is in a race against time before something sinister finds a way to hold him and his friends captive.And this time, Draco might have more to lose than ever before.*SHORT BREAK WHILE I FINISH A LEVI/AOT READER FIC*
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini/Original Female Character(s), Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Theodore Nott/Padma Patil
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> *Updated every Sunday*
> 
> This will be quite a lengthy, plot heavy fic, so please bear with me. The romance is also slow burn!

It wasn't often that Theo Nott found himself leaving the second floor of the Ministry of Magic for one of the lowermost levels. In fact, the last time he'd been required to do so was for a collaborative effort with the Department of Magical Sports and Games; a cursed broom with a penchant for attacking the shins of anyone who tried to ride it. He'd found it quite amusing at first, but the angry welts he'd received on his ankles had him limping to the seventh level without much of a second thought.

This time was different. He'd been _summoned_.

And if Theo had learned anything in the year he'd spent at the Ministry, it was that preparing a Draught of Peace would most likely come in handy if asked to leave your respective level for another. He wondered if it had been a mistake to ignore that bit of advice this time around.

Theo mentally shook his head. No. Everything would be fine; Theo would be fine. He was too valuable to his department to not be.

Though the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was just a level down from his own, he'd been specifically instructed to head towards the office located at the very end of a pristine and winding hall.

The Office of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad.

It was his first time here and this section of the Ministry was just as busy, if not busier, than his own. The halls were scattered with bewildered wizards and witches, rushing from one end to another. Theo recognized an old classmate bounding out of a stray door, scrolls of parchment following him obediently.

"Nott," the man greeted briskly, not bothering to slow down.

Theo nodded in acknowledgement. "Higgs."

Finally reaching the end of the dizzying passage, he entered without hesitation. Whatever it was they needed from him, he was eager to get it over with. Christmas holidays began as soon as he finished for the day and he was eager to leave London behind for a more peaceful setting.

"Mr. Nott! From the Office for the Removal of Curses, Jinxes, and Hexes! Welcome to the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad! Madame Head Investigator is waiting for you just past those doors! Please follow me!"

The young wizard stationed at reception stood from his seat at the sight of him. His eagerness seemed to be something ordinary, his colleagues barely reacting as he announced Theo's arrival.

Led to a large blue framed door, Theo walked in just as confidently as he had moments before. Realization dawned on him as he was met with the steely expression of another familiar face. One he'd seen less often than he'd liked, though he had no reason to admit it.

Seated behind a large mahogany desk, stacked to the heavens with files, was a lofty looking witch. Her dark hair was tied in a neat chignon at the nape of her neck, but the haphazard strands that framed her face gave her away.

"Well, well, well," Theo smirked, his anxiety subsiding. "Had I known it was you that had called for me, I'd have worn my fancy robes."

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose, mumbling incoherently. "I can't believe Harry sent you....he's gotta be out of his mind..."

"Come on, Patil," he grinned. "Let's not be so harsh. Potter's always been a bit odd, but I'll admit he's got fantastic taste."

Padma narrowed her eyes, but held back from responding.

As he expected.

The former Obliviator had been promoted to lead investigator within the squad in just short of a year, a feat even Theo had been impressed with. He was sure it had something to do with her ability to bite her tongue, no matter how trying the circumstances.

"Take a seat, Nott."

Theo followed suit, albeit cautiously.

What could she have possibly had to discuss with him? And at the request of the famous Harry Potter?

"Now, you're probably wondering why you're here—" Padma began.

"Was it not because you wanted to grab dinner?"

She ignored him for a second time, pulling a folder from the depths of her desk. Theo noted it's black color; the color that indicated confidentiality. Only visible to those selected by the author of the file itself.

"I was fully under the impression that Harry would've sent me someone competent to help with this case. But he wants to minimize news of this as much as possible. And that seems to require your cooperation and expertise...despite your direct involvement." Padma scowled, flipping the file in her hands so it faced Theo.

The file was notably thinner than the ones decorating the edges of her desk; it couldn't have been more than ten pages long. The center was emblazoned with two large letters. Initials.

**B. Z.**

The lower right corner donned smaller letters. The names of those who had access to the documents within.

**H. J. Potter**

**P. Patil**

**T. Nott**

Theo didn't have to open it to know what was inside; the initials gave it away. A Draught of Peace would have served him well, after all.

"You know, I've seen a lot of strange things in my time, but seeing my name alongside yours and Potter's really takes the cake."

"Nott."

Theo took a deep breath before looking up at the witch. "I can explain—"

"You don't have to," she clipped. "Zabini beat you to it."

"Blaise tattled to Potter?" Theo furrowed his brows, unable to hide his disbelief. "Of all people... _Potter_?"

As far as Theo was aware, Blaise's last encounter with the famous Harry Potter had been more than six years ago when they'd all taken N.E.W.T. level Potions during their sixth year. Had Theo known Blaise would've grown desperate enough to ask Potter for help...he'd have stopped him immediately.

"Zabini apprehended me," Padma said. "Willingly. Harry was informed afterwards."

"Why? What's the Auror Office got to do with any of this? Magical Accidents and Catastrophes makes sense, but Potter?" Theo couldn't help but scoff. "And how close are you and Blaise that he'd be comfortable enough to let you in on this, anyway?"

"That's besides the point."

"Pardon me for disagreeing."

"Don't change the subject." Padma took the file from Theo's hands, forcing it open in front of him. "Care to read the details of last week's demonstration or shall I?"

Theo made a mental note to hex Blaise when he got the chance.

"Fine," Padma snapped.

"Wait, let me—"

"Theodore Nott, you administered an unauthorized dose of Kurekebisha to a wizard by the name of Blaise Zabini on the nineteenth of December, of the year two-thousand and three, an hour and thirteen minutes and seven seconds before midnight—"

"It was all very consensual, I assure you!"

"—the ingredients for Kurekebisha include Acromantula venom and Abraxan hair, both of which have been outlawed by the International Confederation of Wizards for the last thirty-nine years."

"In our defense, we nicked the ingredients from a rather reputable Tanzanian Aurologist. You'd think as a professional, she'd mention the illegality of it all—"

Padma went off script, throwing him a heated glare. "Kurekebisha is ridiculously dangerous to brew, Nott. And even worse to take! There's a reason why it's outlawed."

"You think we didn't know that? You know how difficult it is to split open Chizpurfle carapaces? I had to split eleven of them! I nicked myself so many times, I reckon half the potion was made of my own blood," he scoffed.

"You could've killed him!"

"But I didn't." Theo emphasized, averting his eyes. "And even if I had, what would you have cared?"

Padma rolled her eyes, not buying into what Theo was selling. "That's a poor excuse and you know that."

She was right. It was a poor excuse to use, but Theo didn't care to retract his attitude. Despite the many years that had passed since the Battle of Hogwarts, there was no denying the permanent stain left on those who had been pureblood supremacists or sympathizers.

Theo's notable skills and lack of involvement in his father's dark past may have helped his case with the Ministry, but the same couldn't have been said for others. Wizards and witches that were once held in high regard now lived quietly, away from the unforgiving eyes of society.

Besides, what was one more maimed pureblood elitist to those who fought in a war against them?

"Whatever it may be, you've got to come to terms with the fact that we had no choice." Theo's right hand tapped restlessly atop Padma's desk.

"But you could have done it under Ministry regulation," Padma sighed. "Two muggle women in the flat next door were injured when Zabini's wand backfired and shattered all the windows of the level."

"They were fine. They found a perfectly mundane excuse for it on their own. The Ministry didn't even have to get involved."

"Even so, you know better than to be so reckless."

_Reckless._

Theo could have laughed. The last six months were anything but reckless. It was months of meticulous planning...investigating. He and Blaise stayed up all hours of the night searching for answers, testing the limits of their bodies just to end up with nothing.

"You think we did this for a laugh? Because we had nothing to do on a Friday evening? _Oi, mate! I'm proper bored. Let's brew an obscure East African healing potion to remedy that godawful curse you've been dealing with for half the year! Just for kicks!_ " Theo slapped his knee dramatically. "I know you don't know Blaise as well as I do, but you've got to understand the situation he's in right now. He's moved himself out of his family chateau, for Merlin's sake. To a muggle neighborhood. And while it may be true that the Ministry is quite effective in keeping a secret, but if his poor mother found out what happened to her son? You think she'd take it quietly Wizards, witches, and—hell! Muggles across Europe would hear about the devastation."

Theo leaned forward, but Padma remained unflinching. Resigned. Her frustration was palpable, but it wasn't because of Theo's insubordination.

"I can see the headlines of the Daily Prophet now: _An unidentifiable wizard with no known motive, assaulting purebloods with an unregistered curse that dulls its victim's magic!_ I'm sure you know what would ensue if this became public?"

"Pure chaos."

"Exactly. Pure—" Theo did a double take. He knew Padma's voice grew deeper when she was angry, but not _that_ deep.

Harry Potter, in all his disheveled glory, sauntered over to where Theo and Padma were seated. His hair stuck out in odd places, his cheeks flushed pink as if he'd just been out in the cold. It seemed as if he had by the looks of his snow scuffed boots. He was dressed in full Auror garb, black and grey armored robes that reminded Theo of a more refined and handsome Keeper uniform.

"Potter? When'd you sneak in here?"

"Just now." Harry gave him a diluted smile.

Theo was used to seeing Harry wandering the halls of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, though less frequently over the last few months. Aurors seemed to have their work cut out for them.

"I see you and Padma are getting along well."

Theo feigned a grin. "Like two peas in a pod, Patil and I."

"If this is what you call getting along, then I'm concerned for your mental health," Padma muttered. Her wrist moved swiftly, her wand pointed past Theo to the back of the room. A chair skid across the floor before settling right beside Theo. Harry took a seat, giving Padma a short thanks.

Theo shifted uneasily, painfully aware of who sat beside him. Granted, Harry's demeanor was much more forgiving than Padma's, but it didn't rid the strange feeling in Theo's chest. The feeling that warned him that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

"Right then!" Harry said. "I reckon Padma has already filled you in?"

Padma sat up straight. "Actually, Harry—"

Theo took a deep breath. There was no use in trying to defend himself to Harry Potter. They may have worked for different offices within the Ministry, but their department was the same. The Assistant Head of the Auror's Office still held authority over Theo, whether he liked it or not.

"Patil's read me my crimes. While I stand by the fact that what I did was...necessary given the circumstances, I understand the risk that was taken. I'll accept any disciplinary action that needs to be taken."

The sound of Harry scratching his chin made Theo look to his left. To his surprise, Harry seemed just as confused as Theo had when he'd first walked into Padma's office.

"Erm..." Harry pursed his lips. "Padma, did you not tell Nott about the case? About what we need him to do?"

Theo turned towards Padma. "What case? Was I not called here to be yelled at by Patil?"

"That was not our original intent, no," Harry admitted, raising a brow at Padma.

Padma laughed unconvincingly, shuffling the files on her desk. "I was just about to explain the details, Harry—just got a little bit distracted."

"Pardon my enthusiasm, but can someone please explain what I'm doing here?" Theo asked.

"Yes, of course," Harry nodded. He reached across Padma's desk, pulling the black file into his lap. "Guess it's best for me to do the briefing, anyway."

A strange pause overwhelmed the small office, the sound of a clock ticking becoming exaggerated and ominous. Harry pushed his glasses up his nose, examining the contents of the folder.

"I'll be frank with this," Harry said, pursing his lips. He'd never been one to beat around the bush. "I'm sure we're all aware of Blaise Zabini's...lack of magic."

Theo leaned back in his seat, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair. "We're aware."

"Though it would've been a great deal more convenient if we'd known sooner," Padma said, giving Theo a dirty look.

"With all due respect Patil, get over it," Theo retorted, rolling his eyes. "The rest of us have."

"Why you little—"

"Go on, Potter. No more interruptions. It's the eve of Christmas Eve and I'm sure we've all got better things to do."

"Right..." Harry trailed, eyeing Padma. Her fist was clenched around her wand, pointed dangerously in Theo's direction.

"Zabini was attacked early June of this year on the grounds of the Malfoy Estate. It happened shortly after the discovery of, uhm—" Harry paused, fidgeting with the edge of the paper in his hand.

Theo knew well how the story went but had no desire to help Harry finish his sentence. He'd been hounded with questions when it had happened, by reporters and colleagues alike. He'd grown disdainful of them; their callous intrigue disguised poorly as concern. The public didn't care for why it happened; it was to whom it happened that drove them blind with glee.

"—the discovery of Narcissa Malfoy." Harry's tone was tinged with regret. "With the reports given to us by Zabini, we have strong reason to believe that whoever killed Narcissa Malfoy was also responsible for cursing him."

Theo remained silent. This wasn't news to him; Theo had been the one to point it out to Blaise months before.

"And while Zabini's trust in the Ministry with this matter may have been delayed, his compliance now is much appreciated. But I'm afraid we've lost critical time in terms of conducting an initial investigation."

"My apologies," Theo offered dryly. "Blaise had something akin to a psychotic break when he realized he couldn't summon a bottle of Firewhiskey to his bedside anymore."

"Sounds awful," Harry sympathized.

"You've no idea."

"Harry!" Padma griped.

"Erm—sorry." Harry shuffled the pages of the file. "So if you were wondering why we're recruiting you, it's because we intend to minimize the exposure of this case due to its classified nature. Your relationship and influence on the parties involved makes you an asset that we'd be foolish not to take advantage of. Narcissa Malfoy's murder is still an active case, but the Auror's Office is at a loss. No one seems to know who's responsible for either offenses and those who act like they do won't talk to Aurors. It's no help that the Malfoys have been limited in terms of cooperation and while we fear that they'll take matters into their own hands, the Ministry has no jurisdiction to interfere until they do."

Theo understood. The man beside him reeked of desperation and he couldn't even make fun of him for it. There was something notably frightening about what had happened to Lady Malfoy and Blaise Zabini over the summer and it was the very reason why Theo had advised Blaise to keep it between them. Involving more people would make things messier. It would put lives in danger.

"What is it you intend for me to do? Spy on the Malfoys and trail them on their evening trips to the black market? If either of those men find out what I'm up to, you'll have another open case on your hands."

"Relax, Nott," Padma spoke, having pushed her contempt to the backburner. "Your job is quite simple."

"Is that so?"

She smirked, her brown eyes twinkling. "Zabini mentioned to us that a certain person of importance is unaware of his magicless situation. Information was purposefully withheld at your suggestion, which really baffles me given his proximity to it all...but this person would undoubtedly be an asset to both cases. All we need you to do is get him to work with us."

Theo paled. This was exactly what he had been dreading. "We can't tell _him_ about Blaise. Absolutely not."

"You have to. We like the idea even less than you do, but there's no denying his competence in dark magic. We need more intel and the only way to give us a fair chance is through him," Padma conferred. "Whatever happened to Zabini that night was terribly sinister magic, and Narcissa Malfoy was even worse. More and more uncanny deaths are coming through to my office disguised as accidents and they all reek of putrid magic. Aurors are at their wit's end! If the use of these curses become commonplace, we'll have another reckoning on our hands."

Theo shook his head. "There's a reason why Blaise and I haven't approached him in all this time. Approached anyone. I humbly ask you to refrain as well."

"What's the reason?" Padma demanded.

"That's none of your business."

"I'm making it my business!"

"Unmake it, then!"

"Listen," Harry sighed. "We're left with no more options. We've exhausted all our resources and there are just some lines we can't cross without someone qualified to do so."

"What about me?" Theo demanded. "I can cross those lines. My family name is just as respected as theirs! With the Ministry's support, I can rub elbows with the worst of them. I can find out the makers and the casters!"

"Even if that were true," Padma glowered. "Everyone's well aware of your place here. You publicly denounced your father after the war, for Merlin's sake. No one in even the lowest social circles of wizard criminals would give you the time of day."

Theo opened his mouth, but closed it just as quick. Arguing with Padma Patil was currently at number two on his list of things that were less fun than an Unforgivable Curse.

What Harry and Padma were asking of him was number one.

"He's going to be difficult," Theo grimaced. "More than what you're imagining in your heads."

"We know, but if anyone's got a shot at doing it, I reckon it'd be you and Zabini," Harry assured.

Theo stood abruptly, his chair screeching across white marble. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging lightly in hopes that the pain would knock some sense into him.

"Who else knows about this? About Blaise?"

"Just us," Padma said. "Oh, and the head of my department, Arnie Peasegoode."

"Erm. And Minister Shacklebolt. Head of the Aurors Office, Robards, too," Harry added.

"So much for confidentiality," Theo hissed.

"If you're questioning the trust of high ranking Ministry officials, I can only advise that you don't." Padma held out the file to him for one final time. "We need to stop whatever it is that's happening before it gets out of control. I'm sure you know what happens when things like this are left unchecked," she said quietly.

Theo bit the inside of his cheek, taking the file. It felt heavy in his grasp, weighted with words that would surely rewrite his future.

"I'll look over this. I'll send an owl after the New Year. We can discuss it further then."

Padma let out a breath, visibly relieved.

"We appreciate it, Nott," Harry said, standing to shake his hand. "The faster we solve this, the faster we can go back to normal."

"Normal," Theo murmured. "Right."

Two pairs of weary eyes followed him as he walked towards the blue framed doors. He could feel their gaze burning into his back, debating with themselves just as he was.

But it was inevitable, Theo decided. A part of him knew that there would come a day where he would have no choice but to ask for the Ministry's aide. If anything, this was better. They asked him first.

But the uneasiness in Theo's chest did not subside as he made his way through the lobby of the office. The relief Padma had exhibited, he could not mimic. Blaise's deteriorating health was a growing concern, but it had to be momentarily sidelined.

A burden he had been avoiding since the passing of the Malfoy matriarch suddenly had to be dealt with. Allowing the Ministry to hound their desired target would only cause more trouble than they were capable of dealing with. A wizard with a terrible temper and penchant for dark knowledge was best apprehended with caution.

No.

The very last thing any of them needed was an aggravated Draco Malfoy.


	2. Two.

"Oliver, I'm not doing this right now."

_"Oliver? Why'd you call me Oliver?"_

Though the restaurant behind her was packed to the brim with a lively Friday night crowd, Nava managed to catch the paranoia in his tone.

"Is that not what your mother named you?"

Holding her phone between her shoulder and ear, she struggled to find her wallet in the depths of her purse.

_"You only call me Oliver when you're upset. Are you upset?"_

Nava tensed, pressing her lips into a hard line. She was never one to go back on a promise and she expected nothing less from her boyfriend, at the very least. There was no use in denying it.

"Yeah, I am. Why is this surprising to you? This is the second time this week, Oli. You could've let me know you weren't planning on showing up before I actually got here. And you knew how excited Thalia was for tonight—she wanted us all to meet her date," Nava frowned. "And now you've left me here to be a fifth wheel."

There was a stagnant pause on the line, followed by a deep sigh.

_"I'm sorry babe. Work's been piling up since the quarter is almost over...Daniel's been up my ass since the beginning of the year—"_

A bright pink manicured hand pulled Nava's purse away from her. Looking to her left, she found sunny haired and bright eyed Margo seated directly beside her, waving her hand dismissively.

"I paid already. Stop shuffling about."

"Love you," Nava mouthed. Margo blew her an exaggerated kiss before taking the straw out of her frozen margarita and chugging it. The bartender gave her a concerned look, glancing at Nava briefly.

She covered her phone with the palm of her hand. "She's fine," Nava assured. The bartender nodded, not fully convinced.

_"—and time just got the best of me. Babe, I swear. I'm so, so, so sorry. You know I would never bail on you on purpose."_

They'd had this conversation several times in the past and she was in no mood to have it again. After a rough few weeks of work, she had been looking forward to a carefree night out but a path to sobriety seemed more likely. Admitting to Oli that he essentially tossed her dreams of being drunk out the window would only make the phone call longer than it needed to be.

"I know you wouldn't. I just really wanted you to be here."

_"I know. How about this? I'll take you to brunch tomorrow...that Mexican place you like in Dalston? You can get as messy as you want. I'll even carry you home on my shoulder. In broad daylight."_

There was silence on the line as Nava contemplated his offer, barely suppressing the giggle she'd held captive in her throat. She glanced over her shoulder, Margo leaning in suspiciously close.

"Say no," she mouthed. Nava rolled her eyes, pushing Margo upright.

"Okay. Let's do that," she declared, feigning haughtiness. She wouldn't give Oli the benefit of a chipper farewell, even if she was a fraction less upset.

_"Great! I'll call you when I get home. And tell Margo to lay off the margaritas."_

"I'm not telling her that. She already doesn't like you."

Oli laughed heartily, static picking up on the line. _"Precisely why I want you to tell her. Anyway, have fun babe."_

"I will."

_"Love you."_

"Love you, too."

Nava waited for him to hang up the call before setting her phone down. It took Margo less than five seconds to start ranting.

"Girl, you need to break up with his lame arse. I don't care how fit you think he is," Margo seethed.

Margaret Holland had been Nava's self-proclaimed relationship counselor since before Nava ever had a boyfriend. In fact, the day Margo had introduced herself to Nava in a year twelve humanities course, the follow up question to 'what's your name?' had been 'so...have you got a boyfriend?'

Over the years, Nava had learned to write off Margo's obsession with love as mostly harmless. The only time she seemed to be remotely dangerous was in a club, three shots of tequila in, surrounded by horny men. She was simply a hopeless romantic hiding under an aggressive approach.

"I'm not breaking up with him."

Margo made a face. "That's unfortunate."

Margo had no shame in bullying Oli, regardless of if he was present or not. Nava had tried to understand where Margo was coming from but all she could come up with was something about his vibe...which Nava had difficulty interpreting.

"Margo, you need to get over whatever grudge you have against him. He never did anything to you. "

"Okay, but consider this." Margo paused, putting in the effort to look Nora in the eyes. "He's too nice...too accommodating. It's fucking weird! "

"What's weird?"

A leggy brunette with impeccable posture appeared beside Nava. The designer rings on her fingers gleamed under the warm lights, weighing heavily on Nava's shoulder. Overdressed as usual, her chiffon dress and diamond earrings looked almost absurd next to Nava's oversized knit sweater and trousers.

Almost.

It must've been magic the way Thalia never looked out of place, no matter how ostentatious she decided to be.

"Thalia," Nava pouted dramatically. "You're back, finally—Margo's being mean about Oli again."

Wrapping her arms around Nava, Thalia gave her an affectionate kiss on her forehead. It was immediately followed up with a loaded glare in Margo's direction.

"Margaret, please don't start. We all know you're into toxic men, so don't make Nava think her man is flawed."

"Whatever," Margo scowled, taking Nava's melting margarita from her. "Who are you to judge the value of a man anyway? I gave you a chance to set me up with a good, God fearing man tonight and all you've brought is a dodgy, short bloke in a fake Gucci belt."

Nava widened her eyes, clasping her hand over her mouth.

"Margo!" Thalia whispered, horrified. "They're right behind us!"

"They're not even close."

Nava looked at the two men chatting it up a few feet away from them. She could see what Margo meant. The shorter one, with darker hair and a permanent grimace, was most definitely all bark and no bite. Margo would overwhelm him with just one conversation and neither of them would be happy about it.

The one who'd introduced himself as Casey when they'd first arrived stood about a head taller than his disgruntled friend. Nava wouldn't have been surprised if he admitted to being a professional rugby player; his shoulders ridiculously wide, muscles barely contained by his jumper. He exuded a slight arrogance, shown by the way he smiled with only half the effort, but it was muted with just enough charm.

Casey was definitely a catch and he knew it. With the way he kept glancing in Thalia's direction, it seemed as if he'd already been caught.

"Enough about Margo's failed love life," Nava said, swiping her drink from Margo's greedy hands.

"You were letting it melt!"

Margo's protest went ignored.

"Tell me, Thalia," Nava said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "What's with you and tall, broad and handsome? It's what—date number four now? And you're letting him meet us? This has to be serious."

Until recently, Thalia dated exclusively within the starving artist demographic of London. Nava had no qualms against the community, she was excited for this change in pace for her sister. Though Casey was a little older and more intense than Thalia's usual, the fact that his watch and shoe combo cost more than Nava and Oli's monthly rent was a fun detail to take into consideration.

"Casey is...amazing? I don't know. He's perfect? Oh Jesus, that man is...?" Thalia's expression turned coy, her shoulders involuntarily shrugging into herself.

"Are you asking us or telling us?" Margo asked, puzzled.

"I don't know!" Thalia groaned. "He's almost too good to be true?"

"Drop him," Margo demanded. "How are neither of you concerned by your choice in men? It's all a trap! They'll treat you like a bloody queen and then as soon as you get comfortable, they'll toss you out for a younger, dumber, more fun—"

"Margo," Nava said, grasping her shoulder firmly. "I mean this in the nicest way possible. _Shut up_."

"Hun, you'll find love too." Thalia shook her head. "But until then, you'll have to make do with another drink."

"Sorry," Margo frowned, crossing her arms over chest. "I don't know how to be not bitter."

"We know," Nava sympathized. "But get it together because Thalia's finally found a man who looks like he has a retirement plan. If I have to meet one more bloody trust fund baby with victim complex I might just—"

"Ladies! Table's ready!"

Nava and Margo turned to the sound of Casey's voice, caught off guard by it's huskiness.

"Maybe Casey isn't so bad after all," Margo said, her mouth slightly agape.

"Great, let's go!" Thalia exclaimed, swiping her purse from the bar. She all but threw Margo's drink at her, hurrying after the dark blonde man.

His shorter friend, whose name Nava could not recall, stood with both hands in his pockets, looking more tense than necessary. Nonetheless, he waited for the two girls to gather their belongings before briskly leading them to their seats.

Nava nudged Margo as discreetly as she could. "Be nice," she warned.

"I'm always nice."

The nameless man looked up at the two, leaving Nava no choice but to smile brightly in hopes of diluting Margo's awkward aura. Giving her one last glare, Margo finally caved.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name." Margo reached her hand out to him.

The man shook her hand before responding. "Erm—Milton. Pleasure to meet you."

Something about the way Milton spoke made Nava feel as though he wasn't at all pleased to meet her.

"Lovely to meet you, Milton. I'm Margo. And this is Nava."

Nava gave him a friendly wave, but kept her distance. "Hello!"

Milton looked between the two girls, nodding in acknowledgement.

"Come on now, Milton. No need to be nervous," Margo said, taking the seat directly beside him. Thalia and Casey watched, amused as Milton shifted in his seat. Nava couldn't help but feel sorry for the night he was about to have.

"Margo," Thalia laughed lightly. "You're quite terrifying to Nava and I. Can't imagine what he must think of you."

"Don't worry, Milton," Nava said. "Margo doesn't bite—"

"—that hard," Thalia finished. The table erupted into a fit of laughter. Except for Milton.

"So," Nava said, clearing her throat. She directed her gaze towards the couple across the table, zeroing in on her prey for the night. "Please indulge me. How'd you two meet again?"

Thalia exchanged a glance with Nava before smiling at Casey. "Believe it or not, we actually met at Tillys!"

"Tillys? No way!" Margo exclaimed, digging her elbow into Nava's side. "Nava works at Tillys!"

"Thalia's mentioned it," Casey said, his eyes twinkling. "Lovely pub, I must say. Even lovelier patrons."

"I'm not so sure about that," Nava admitted. "But I do appreciate the sentiment."

The pub she bartended at was mostly frequented by rowdy university students and grubby men who liked to ogle at women half their age. She could hardly picture Casey pulling up to Tillys to order chips and cheap pint.

"It was on Halloween, actually," Thalia blushed, caressing Casey's arm.

"Explains it," Nava said, nodding. We pull out all the stops for the holidays. Consider yourself blessed to have been there when you did."

Casey's blue eyes sparkled as he looked to Thalia. "Very blessed."

Nava screeched internally.

"You were working that night, Nava!" Thalia exclaimed. "Don't you remember?"

Barely.

All Nava remembered from Halloween was the blinding stress of working an overcapacity pub in a short plaid skirt. She'd specifically asked Thalia to spend the holiday in her workplace for the benefit of having someone to talk to during her breaks, but that had proved to be in vain when Thalia arrived in all her vampiric glory. Casey must have been one of the many men who had flocked to her side that night.

"If I do recall," Casey thought out loud, looking curiously at Nava. "I may have seen you there."

"I would very much prefer if you pretended you didn't."

"You were the one dressed as a—" Casey paused, looking to Thalia for help. "—what is it? A school girl?"

"Britney Spears," Thalia corrected, biting her lip. "She was dressed as Britney Spears."

"You don't know who Britney Spears is?" Margo asked, dumfounded.

"Well, we can't expect everyone to know every celebrity there is," Thalia defended lightly.

Margo scoffed. "Even my ninety-two year old grandad knows who Britney Spears is."

"Pardon my lack of knowledge. I don't really get the time to watch many films as of late," Casey admitted.

"Britney Spears is a singer," Thalia whispered from beside him.

"Right," he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. He turned back to Nava, desperate to evade Margo's scrutinizing eyes. "Frankly, I was quite impressed by your ability to carry so many pints of ale in just one hand."

"I won't deny that I'm talented, but please erase the memory of me in pigtails from your mind,' Nava grimaced. "I aim to be a refined woman."

"Oh, even the finest of women have unrefined habits," Margo chimed in. "Wouldn't you agree, Milton?"

Milton looked baffled but recovered quickly. "I...suppose so."

"Well there you have it, Nava dear. No need to worry about your reputation. Milton's confirmed it himself."

Nava turned to Margo, blinking slowly. It wasn't unlike Margo to misbehave, but something about her felt off tonight. As if she were actively trying to make everyone uncomfortable.

Thalia seemed to share Nava's train of thought, but being the sibling better versed in damage control, she effortlessly managed to shift gears.

"Margo! I've been meaning to ask you!" Thalia exclaimed, her eyes wide. "Nava was telling me about what happened last week—"

Margo barely let her finish, her eyes bright with excitement. This was by far her favorite story to tell as of late. Nava had yet to hear the end of it, despite having been an eyewitness.

"Oh! That was absolutely nuts! I can't believe I haven't told you yet!" Margo exclaimed, throwing her hand over her heart. Her golden curls bounced enthusiastically as she dove into a dramatic and well spun retelling of that fateful night.

Even Milton seemed mildly intrigued.

"—and then poor Nava! My flat is one of the two on the fifth floor and she was standing right on the balcony. And out of nowhere, the streetlight from below short-circuited and red sparks flew as the power went out! The building shook, I swear on it! And then as if a bomb went off, all the windows just _shattered_."

Casey gave out a long whistle, thoroughly immersed in Margo's story. his arm casually draped over Thalia's shoulder. Nava hid her smile, watching Thalia struggle to not melt into a puddle under his touch.

"I reckon Nava and you made it out alive," Casey joked, shooting her a small smile.

"Not even a scratch," Nava mused. All the glass from the broken balcony doors had miraculously fallen inwards, leaving her unharmed.

The night it happened hadn't left Nava any room to consider how astonishing it was given the destruction of it all, especially paired with Margo's hysteria. She'd been too busy trying to convince Margo the cuts she'd received on her arms were not fatal.

But eleven days had passed since then. More than enough time to realize how bizarre it was that she hadn't been hurt.

"I was massacred! Three cuts down the length of my arm!" She traced across the sleeve of her sweater. "I'm lucky I didn't need stitches!"

Thalia looked mildly horrified, her hand resting delicately over her chest.

"But that's not even the strangest thing," Margo continued. "Our floor was the only floor with broken windows. The other four were completely fine! Can you believe it?"

"Did you ever find out what happened?" Casey asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. They said something about a power line going rogue...whatever that means. The impact of the explosion rattled the building so hard that it broke the windows."

"Ah," Casey nodded. "Makes sense."

No it didn't.

Nava had laughed when the management staff of Margo's building gave their ridiculous explanation. None of what they had said made any sense. How a malfunctioning power line had the ability to shatter the glass of just the top floor of a building was beyond her, but alas, her knowledge on power lines and window stability was at negative twelve percent and she had no solid argument to make against them.

"So strange," Thalia murmured. "Thank goodness you two weren't badly hurt!"

"Yeah," Margo nodded, pleased by their reactions. "The blokes next door were proper terrified too. It was like something out of a movie."

Casey took a sip of his drink, giving Margo a curious look. "Where did this happen if you don't mind me asking? I live in the London area too, and I feel like something like that would've caught the attention of a lot of people."

"In Chelsea. And trust me, I'm sure the explosion could be heard from miles away. People were leaving their homes 'cause they thought we were under attack or something."

Thalia spared Nava a look, a giant question mark on her face. Margo had reached the point in her story where she had nothing more to say but had all the energy to continue.

Nava shook her head, mouthing the words silently. "It wasn't _that_ bad."

Thalia chuckled, turning back to the conversation Margo and Casey had immersed themselves in. Something about prime real estate and property value.

Pursing her lips, Navad played with the edge of her sleeve. Her status as the fifth wheel was painfully apparent with the chair directly across from her empty.

Eyes wandering to her right, Nava caught sight of Milton and suddenly didn't feel so bad. That poor man had somehow become a fourth wheel on his own date. It had been obvious that he'd only come along as an accessory to Casey but Milton looked devastatingly awkward next to Margo, his eyes fixated on his untouched drink with no regard as to where he was or what he was meant to be doing there.

"Nava, isn't Oli coming?"

Nava perked up at the sound of Thalia's voice, caught off guard by everyone's stares.

"Oh," Nava started, her voice trailing. "Something with work came up last minute. He can't make it."

Realizing the apparent disappointment in her tone, she masked it with a light laugh. "He sends his regards though. Drinks are on him after the New Year."

"I'll hold him to that," Margo huffed, lifting her glass. Nava grinned, clinking her glass with Margo's.

Oli would have to do more than buy a round to make up for abandoning her tonight.

"Who's Oli?" Casey asked, raising a brow.

"Oh, Oli's my—"

"Oliver's Nava's boyfriend! They're just the cutest of couples!" Thalia gushed, her fingers brushing against Casey's. "You guys would get along so well! You have so much in common, don't you think Nava?"

Thalia's enthusiasm was tenfold. The drink in front of her hadn't even met its end, but that hadn't kept Thalia's brown eyes from glazing over with a mixture of admiration and alcohol.

"Oli and Casey couldn't be more different if they tried," Margo said, slurring slightly. The light in Thalia's eyes dimmed slightly.

Nava caught sight of Thalia's waning zeal.

"I do think that if they met, they'd be the best of friends," Nava said, smiling reassuringly.

It was a blatant lie, of course. Oli was a simple, no frills kind of man. Casey's honey coated words and half-smile would have irritated him to no end.

Regardless, the fib had its desired effect, leaving Thalia giggling softly into Casey's side.

He returned a knowing smile, discreetly moving her drink from Thalia's line of sight.

"This is so embarrassing for her," Margo mumbled under her breath. "And you."

"Come outside with me," Nava whispered back. "So I can kick your arse."

"Sorry, it'd be rude to leave my date behind. Maybe next time."

"I can assure you that Milton would be over the moon if you left."

"You got me there," Margo snickered.

"What're you two whispering on about?" Thalia asked, her voice slightly shrill.

Nava took the opportunity as it presented itself. Grabbing Margo's wrist, she pulled her from her seat.

"Margo and I are gonna check out the bar to see if they'd be willing to make some French 75s. You guys down for a round?"

"I have no clue what that is, but if my favorite bartender is recommending it then I'm all for it!" Casey grinned.

Margo squeezed Nava's wrist.

"Me too! I want one!" Thalia chimed.

"We're getting you water," Margo quipped. "Milton, darling. I'll be right back with your drink."

Milton ears burned bright red, but the rest of him remained stationary.

"Hurry back!" Thalia called after them. "I think I'm sobering up!"

"Doubt that," Nava murmured. With Margo's hand still in hers, she led them to the front of the restaurant where the bar was located.

"Oh. Are we actually getting drinks?" Margo asked, surprised.

"Yes? Why—what did you think we were doing?"

"I humored the idea that maybe you wanted to follow through with your threat, but then I thought maybe you wanted to address the fact Casey is lowkey flirting with you."

"Shush!" Nava whispered, covering Margo's mouth with her palm. The bartender from before watched in resignation as Margo licked Nava's hand in an attempt at freedom.

Wrenching her arm back in disgust, she gasped.

"So you _did_ notice!"

"I didn't notice anything," Nava grumbled. "He's just the friendly type."

"The overly friendly type."

First Oli. Then Casey. Even grumpy, but decidedly neutral Milton. Margo was on a bitter high and Nava was more than willing to deliver an intervention. If not for her sake, then for Thalia.

"Have you ever considered that maybe you perceive men who are genuinely nice as questionable because you've only been shown affection by men who've treated you terribly?"

"Fucking ouch," Margo hissed.

"I gave you a fair warning."

"You said you'd kick my arse, not my entire being!"

"You'll get over it," Nava simpered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Now try and get the bartender's attention. She's avoiding us."

Not that Nava could blame her. The two were undoubtedly the loudest couple at the bar, despite their efforts to remain discreet.

"Yeah, yeah," Margo muttered, turning to lean against the bar. "Excuse me! Can we get five French 75s?"

"Four," Nava corrected. "Thalia's not going to finish hers."

"Sorry, make that four!"

The bartender confirmed their order, rushing to the shelves for a bottle of champagne.

"Nava, why's she grabbing gin?" Margo scrunched her nose apprehensively. "Oh, bloody—is this one of those pretty drinks that'll have me on the floor afterwards?"

Named after the gun used by the French in the first World War, the drink was said to have the same effects as being hit by its namesake. For any normal person, Margo's assessment would've been correct.

But Margo didn't count as a normal person. Not to Nava, at least.

"You're a functioning alcoholic, this'll be nothing to you," Nava assured.

Margo scoffed, not buying a single word. "I know exactly what you're doing, but since you're putting in so much effort to do so, I'll go along with it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Nava said, suddenly interested in her nails.

The bartender returned with four unassuming champagne flutes topped with lemon twists.

"I swear to God if I end up sick, all my drinks on New Year's Eve will be on your tab."

"Hell no!" Nava scoffed. "They're going on Oli's."

Margo settled for a devilish grin. There was nothing she enjoyed more than giving Oli a hard time and the joy of having his girlfriend's consent only added to the high.

"Have I ever told you I loved you? Because I do. Truly. More than I'll ever love a man."

The girls grabbed two glasses each, making their way back to the table where Thalia and their dates were waiting.

"Oh, Margaret dear. I wouldn't speak so soon if I were you."

**⁂**

"I hate you," Margo groaned.

It was nearly half past midnight when the cab halted to an abrupt stop, sending Nava off the edge of the backseat. Her knees collided with the back of the driver's seat, a dull pain shooting up her leg. She refrained from heaving, afraid that the tapas she'd indulged in all night would find its way back up.

"We're here—Barlow Square," the cabbie drawled.

Shuffling through her purse, she emerged with a twenty pound note.

"Keep the change."

Wrenching the door open, Nava grabbed Margo's hand. She needed to get out of the car. 

_Immediately._

"C'mon drunky," she said, struggling to pull Margo out the back of the cab. She all but folded over Nava's arm, nearly taking her down with her. "Margo—"

"Owww," Margo screeched. "You're hurting me!"

A bitter wind struck Nava across the face, her eyes watering in protest.

"If you're gonna keep complaining, I'll give you something to complain about," Nava hissed.

"You can't yell at me when you're the one who did this!"

Sure, she had underestimated Margo's tolerance, but drunk Margo was a lot more pleasant than sober Margo. She had done their party a service. In fact, Nava could've sworn Milton smiled at one of her jokes at some point during the night.

But everything had its consequences. And Nava had failed to factor in the aftermath of drunk Margo.

Sick Margo.

"No one told you to drink two of them," Nava scolded. "Besides, that's what you get for bullying those men."

Margo clicked her tongue, her head lolling onto her shoulder. "I'll never trust a man who doesn't know who bloody Britney Spears is."

The cabbie watched as the two girls struggled to get on the sidewalk, huffing irritatedly as Nava grabbed the car door for support after slipping on the snow dusted cobblestone.

"Close the door."

The urge to kick the door shut with her heel was immeasurable. "Sorry 'bout that. Give me a second."

Nava managed to get all of Margo out the car, pulling both their purses onto one arm, holding Margo upright with the other. As soon as she shut the car door, the cab swerved off the curb, speeding away down the barren street.

"How _rude_."

"Stop shouting!" Margo agonized, holding her head.

Nava scowled, dragging her across the walkway. Her tone had barely risen over her normal speaking voice.

Barlow Square gleamed in the distance like a beacon of hope, decorated expertly with holiday lights. Nava hadn't been back to Margo's apartment since the accident, but despite the apprehension that was now coded in her, she wanted nothing more than to disappear into the depths of Margo's guest bedroom.

With the way Margo was shuffling through the snow, they wouldn't make it to the lobby before sunrise.

"I'm going to need you to put a little more pep in your step," Nava said, shivering as another gust of wind penetrated the fabric of her trousers. Her ankles were frozen solid from where her socks had rolled down in her boots.

Margo grunted in response, throwing herself forward with every step. She looked something akin to a fawn taking its first steps. If Nava hadn't grown numb from the cold, she would've laughed.

"You're pulling on my hair," Nava complained, grasping at the strands caught between Margo's arm and her own. The weight of their purses made it difficult to adjust herself.

Just as the entrance to Margo's building came into view, Nava felt Margo lose her grip.

"Shit!" Nava gasped, her knee buckling under the weight imbalance. Margo went down like a boulder, ass first onto the pavement with a dramatic thud.

Waiting for her turn, Nava braced for the ground with her arms but impact never came. Looking up, she widened her eyes in surprise to find a hand grasped firmly onto the sleeve of her coat.

Nava recognized him immediately; with a face like that, it was hard to forget. He was rather tall and had pretty brown skin, taut over high cheekbones.

"Watch your step."

The man seemed to be holding back a smile of his own, straightening Nava out onto her feet. She brushed off the front of her coat, cheeks red from a mixture of cold and humiliation.

"Oh my God!" Nava let out a short laugh. "You just saved me a week's worth of Tylenol."

"Don't mention it." His neutral expression was marred with mild amusement.

"Blaise, right? You live in the flat next to Margo's. We met last week when the windows...you know." Nava took the time to mimic an explosion with her hands.

Blaise nodded, his eyes changing as realization dawned on him. "Right. I remember."

"Hellooooooo," Margo howled from the floor. She had resorted to laying on her back, her limbs flayed out like starfish. "Can you guys do this later and get me the fuck into bed?"

Nava pursed her lips, shaking her head. The amount of regret she felt for ordering those champagne flutes seemed to be warming her from the inside out.

"I'm so sorry to have to ask you this, but would you mind helping me get her upstairs? She's usually very spritely, but she's soaked in about a ton of gin."

Blaise seemed to glitch for a moment, blinking as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "You want me to...what?"

Nava wasn't sure what the unwritten rules for neighbors were. Maybe she was asking for too much.

"I totally understand if you're busy!" She said quickly. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel burdened by her request. "I'll get going, then! Thanks for helping me up!"

Blaise opened his mouth to speak but Nava had already turned her back on him. Hurrying over to where Margo lay half asleep in the snow, she pulled her up with impressive strength, tucking the girl under her arm.

"Well that was bloody embarrassing," Margo muttered, a safe distance away from where her neighbor stood.

Nava silently agreed, but let it float to the back of her mind.

Ignoring the feeling of an unwavering stare on their backs, she led a stumbling Margo towards the glass entrance of Barlow Square with no thoughts of anything other than getting into a warm bed. 


	3. Three.

_Adam Amari came to see his baby._

_He woke her gently, smiling when she blinked sleep away from her eyes. He wore his favorite blue linen shirt he'd gotten from their trip to...Nava couldn't remember. But she knew it had been his favorite._

_His jet black hair was tousled as if he'd just woken up, sitting with his arms crossed in front of her pink bed in her pink room. She didn't question his presence. He was her father after all._

_It was okay for him to be there._

_"What's wrong?" Nava asked, sitting up. Everything was quiet—quiet enough for her whisper to echo across the room._

_"I'm worried about you."_

_His voice was unfaltering and firm. Just as always._

_Leaning forward, Nava tried reaching out to him. Her fingers disappeared into the blue linen. She couldn't feel him._

_"You worry too much," she mumbled, frowning at her own hand. "Always have and always will."_

_"Guess there are some things you can't help," he chuckled. "Even in the afterlife."_

_Nava froze._

_"You're dead," she whispered. She kept still, staring at him for confirmation even though she already knew._

_"I'm sorry," he said sincerely._

_"It's okay."_

_They both knew it wasn't._

Nava awoke with a sharp breath, her heart pounding against her chest. What a strange sensation it was to know someone so well, only to wake up and realize they no longer existed. Living off hazy memories was all she could do, but rarely was that enough.

Trembling, Nava's consciousness tried it's best to comfort her. Her eyes scanned the room, pink walls replaced with lavender; a canopy bed replaced with a familiar grey four poster.

It wasn't real—it was just another dream. An unnecessary one.

Sunlight peeked through sheer white curtains, shy of every corner aside from where the queen size bed stood. Flipping unceremoniously onto her stomach, she pulled a number of pillows to her head in hopes of escaping the day. It was useless.

The sounds of an early Tuesday had already made its way into her head, successfully distracting her. Birds chirping—cars honking—a pedestrian yelling over a stolen parking spot.

How inconsiderate of them.

She lifted herself up, resting on her elbows as she allowed the last of her drowsiness to dilute itself with the burden of being awake. Reaching for the small, black piece of plastic she called her mobile phone, she shivered as the duvet exposed her shoulders. She hit the center button, contorting her face in disgust as she read the time illuminated on the screen.

**8:28 AM**

Grumbling, Nava chucked the phone onto the other side of the bed, losing it in the mess of sheets. Swinging her feet off the edge of the mattress, she let her feet brush against the wood floors. They were cold to the touch. Margo had something against sleeping with the heat on, regardless of whether or not the season called for it.

But Nava hated being cold and therefore, Nava hated the winter. Under winter's wing came darker, shorter days and an unfillable void molded by the hands of those unwilling to return the warmth Nava so readily gave.

Having to dress in layers was annoying as well.

She curled her toes as they met the floor, shuffling towards the window in muted anticipation. Pushing the curtains out the way, she let sunlight burst in, fully illuminating the room.

Tying her hair into a haphazard bun on top of her head, she looked towards the sky. It reminded her of the kind of skies seen in overzealous Carribean getaway adverts with people twirling on the sand in bathing suits; the really cheesy ones that, nevertheless, made the viewer wish they were on vacation.

Just below the block of blue was Reinley Park, a much needed slab of green in the middle of the monochromatic city, frequented by locals and tourists alike.

It was Margo's favorite place to scope out eligible bachelors during her jogs in the morning, the hobby affectionately codenamed to 'bird-watching' for the sake of maintaining one's dignity. Nava had joined in on Margo's bird-watching escapades a number of times in the name of moral support and a literal breath of fresh air, undeniably developing her own soft spot for the park, and by association, Margo's apartment.

Inconsistent rummaging from the kitchen let Nava know Margo was alive and well, giving her incentive to emerge from the depths of the guestroom. Making her way into the heart of the apartment, she found Margo clutching a plate of croissants, an open tub of butter splayed out on the table.

"Oh," Margo blinked. "I didn't think you'd be awake."

"Neither did I." Nava reached over, swiping a warm pastry for her own. "But it's pretty outside today. I aim to be productive."

Margo grunted, shoving her bread into her mouth. "Thalia texted me last night. She got home in one piece."

Nava had received her own message from her sister, gushing about Casey and how she had a good feeling about him. Casey seemed to be really into Thalia and it made her excited; if anyone deserved limitless love and affection, it was Thalia.

"I'm gonna leave in a bit," Nava said, picking apart her croissant with delicate hands. "I wanted to head to my apartment before meeting up with Oli for brunch. And I've got to drop some things off to the gallery before that."

"Oli's got work today?"

Nava nodded. "He's meeting me on his break."

"Work on New Year's Eve?" Margo asked. "That's suspicious."

"Today's the thirtieth."

"Never mind. Have fun."

Nava rolled her eyes, wiping her greasy fingers on the hand towel beside the kitchen sink.

"Take a stroll through Reinley today if you have nothing better to do. Don't waste your day off being hungover and prickly."

"I'll spend my day off however I please, thank you very much," Margo huffed. "Besides, my whole body is sore. I don't think I can keep up with birds today."

"My bad." The image of Margo sprawled out on the floor made her chuckle. "Make sure to take a painkiller after you finish. You fell pretty hard."

Margo gave her a sideways glare, pulling a bottle of ibuprofen from the kitchen drawer beside her. She took two pills for her own, offering Nava the bottle.

"Do you need?"

"Nah, I'm good."

A fond memory of Margo's six foot something neighbor coming to her rescue popped into her head suddenly.

"Speaking of birds," she smirked. "I got a good look at the bloke who lives next door—Blaise."

"Okay?" Margo raised her brows. "What about him?"

For someone who was so desperate for companionship, Margo's ambition was more than lacking.

"You should ask him to lunch or something, you idiot," Nava said, exasperation dripping from her tone.

Both run-ins with Margo's neighbor may have been less than ideal on either of their ends, but it seemed a possibility that Blaise was put together enough to hold up to Margo's eccentricity. Nava vaguely recalled meeting him the night the windows shattered, but she did remember him being much more level headed than his friend.

"He's gorgeous—kind of mysterious—and he's got a deep voice. Also, bonus points for saving my arse last night."

"He saved your arse, not mine."

"It was already too late for you," Nava defended. "Besides, what's stopping you from just being friendly?"

"Nava, honey," Margo simpered, placing a hand over her heart. "I don't know if it's because you've been in a longterm relationship with the most heterosexual man I've ever met, but I've got to break it to you. That man is gay."

Nava paused, tilting her head in contemplation. "How can you be so sure?"

"It's pretty obvious," Margo laughed. "Just look at him! He's too _pretty_. And he barely looked at us that first day we ran into him. And I was in my nightie—my tits were bouncin' around all over the place for God's sake."

It was clear Margo's ego had grown more fragile as of late. Blaise had moved into the flat next door just a couple of months after her, so it didn't make sense for her to have such strong opinions of him, especially when Nava's interactions with Blaise outnumbered hers.

"Just because he's well dressed and not interested in you doesn't make him gay, Margo," Nava retorted. "And maybe he's an ass man!"

"Exactly my point!" Margo exclaimed.

Nava grimaced. She'd set herself up with that one.

"That's obviously not the only reason," Margo defended, sensing her disappointment. "He's always with his boyfriend! You've seen him—the one with the curly brown hair."

Nava remembered but Blaise had been the only one to offer up his name the night the windows shattered, not bothering to introduce his friend. He'd been too busy running in and out of Blaise's flat, muttering incoherently as he paced the halls.

"Even if he is gay, you should ask him to lunch. It wouldn't kill you to make some friends outside of me and Thalia."

"I don't wanna," Margo pouted. "I'm perfectly fine with it being just us."

"Suit yourself," Nava scoffed, moving away from the counter that separated the kitchen and the living room.

She picked her scarf off the back of the pink settee, throwing it over her shoulder. The night before had exhausted her to such a degree that she'd resorted to tossing various articles of clothing in a haste to get to bed. She found her purse hanging off a branch of the fake olive tree Margo kept by her front door.

"I'm gonna go get ready," she called out, heading back to the guest room with all her things.

"Do what you want," Margo said, waving her off. "I have an extra toothbrush in the bathroom. Check under the sink. "

"Stop treating me so well," Nava warned. "Next thing you know, I'll just end up moving in with you."

"I literally want nothing more."

Nava smiled, looking over her shoulder. She blew a kiss towards her friend, who proceeded to catch it and chuck it over her shoulder. Margo giggled maniacally, watching Nava retreat into the depths of the guest room with her middle finger on full display.

**⁂**

Being a part of a society filled with excess and prestige ensured that there was always someone worth meeting and fun to be had. Though Blaise had practiced enough self awareness to acknowledge his privilege—compared to his peers, at least—luxury proved to no longer serve as a blessing, but a right.

It was a right his mother had earned through years of playing the part of a doting, trophy wife to wealthy wizards blinded by beauty and sweet words.

Blaise never held it against her, of course. He respected her for it. Humoring foolish men into marriage—seven to be exact, was not something just any woman could pull off. It was hard labor, but a labor that reaped fortunes to last the Zabinis a lifetime.

But even Blaise knew when a party was due to end; when dazzling dresses and expensive suits began to look like costumes, it was time to take off the mask and call it a night. The feeling of tiredness creeping into his bones, making the corners of a genuine smile drop just enough to feel counterfeit. The all too familiar feeling of being an imposter in your own skin would no longer leave him. Thus, Blaise couldn't help but accept that his little masquerade had reached its end.

He'd tried everything in Merlin's book to keep the illusions in place, but it was no use. Keeping up with the part he'd played for nearly twenty-four years of his life had become seemingly impossible, leaving Chateau Zabini behind for a quaint flat in the heart of muggle London. His mother had been rightfully concerned by his decision, but how could he have confided in her without sending her to an early grave?

"Oh, darling! You'll absolutely hate London!" she had cried. "It's a monstrosity! Filled to the brim with selfish, dreary men and dull women!"

While Blaise agreed with his anguished mother, he knew it had to be done. He'd hid his afflictions for more months than he'd thought possible; the time had come for him to set his pride aside. If Blaise Zabini was going to be at the mercy of others, he'd much rather face them gracefully and on his own terms—

A series of loud bangs shook the walls of the apartment.

"Blaise, open up you _bloody idiot_."

Unless it was Theo Nott. Theo Nott deserved no grace from him.

The incessant knocking on his front door grew louder with every passing second, cutting through the early morning silence Blaise often looked forward to.

One thing he hated most about his seemingly cursed existence was his inability to cast a simple Quietening Charm on his door. Everytime he tried, his walls emitted a pathetic wheeze, muffling the sounds from the hall momentarily before giving up. He damned the merciless wizard that decided to leave him with just a wisp of his magic. Having it stolen in the first place was bad enough, but to leave a trace of it behind to taunt him?

Cruel.

Left with no other choice, Blaise swung open the front door with a furious gusto, his frown deepening at the sight of the man before him. Theo looked worse for wear, the bags under his eyes complementing the blue of his irises.

"You know, I quite hate when you show up unannounced," Blaise said narrowly.

"You also hate when I show up announced," Theo deadpanned. He walked past Blaise, making a beeline for the black leather chaise in the living room. It faced the balcony, allowing for a handsome view of the park across the road.

Throwing himself onto the lounge chair, he tossed his briefcase onto the coffee table with a dull thud.

"If you scratch my table, you're personally responsible for resurrecting Aradia Charpentier from the grave so she can make me another," Blaise reproached.

"You've got more pressing matters to worry about. Perhaps you'd like to go over the list of problems that precede the minor destruction of an ugly table."

"I don't think you realize how lucky you are that I can't use my wand on you."

"You're more than welcome to throw a punch," Theo offered.

Blaise made a face, settling onto the settee adjacent to him. "Don't want to scuff up my rings."

Theo said nothing, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the sun pour in.

The room grew silent as they stalled, neither of them willing to start the conversation that needed to be had.

He gave himself a moment to appreciate the sanctity of the apartment; it was quite nice for muggle accommodations, though Blaise's furnishings were too polished for Theo's taste.

What he did enjoy was the absence of the whirring and stirrings of a magical household; chaos was muted here, allowing for enough empty space to think without distractions.

"Well," Blaise said. "Let's have at it. I haven't got all day."

"What plans could I possibly be keeping you from?" Theo snorted. "Please, humor me."

"That's none of your concern."

Theo faced Blaise. His expression was indistinct, but his frustration was palpable.

"Hate to break it to you, but until the Ministry decides it's finished with you, wherever you go is my business. And that's all thanks to you and your big mouth."

"Excuse me for being concerned for my life," Blaise shot back. "I thought I was dying and all you did was stand there and watch!"

"It was supposed to feel like you're dying," Theo countered.

"And you would know that, how?"

"That's hardly relevant," he scoffed. Letting Blaise know that it was an educated guess on his part would probably get him kicked out of the apartment. "Besides, what in your right mind convinced you it was a good idea to go to Patil about this?"

Blaise had the audacity to shrug. "She was my desk partner in sixth year potions and we got along fairly well. I saw her outside the Ministry and—"

"You had a lapse in judgement. You could've just as easily gone to Daphne—she'd have been more than willing to help us without mouthing off to anyone else."

"Do you even know what the hell Daphne does? She works for the International Magical Trading Standards Body."

Theo blanked. He had no idea that department even existed.

"Be honest, Theo. Did you really think we'd end up figuring this out? Just us two, on our own? We were in over our heads from the very beginning. Keeping this from the Ministry—I should've gone to them the night it happened." Blaise's face grew solemn, his eyes murky with regret. "And we should've told Draco."

He leaned forward with his hands folded, elbows resting atop his knees. Months of contemplation and anxiety had carved out the hollows of his cheeks. The signature clean, cropped hair that he'd worn throughout his school years and early adulthood had grown out, curling over his forehead, eternally creased with worry.

Sighing deeply, Theo pulled himself upright, the leather shifting under his weight. As he straightened his back, a ray of sun angled itself across his face, causing him to squint.

They'd spent the last six months convincing themselves that they could handle themselves, despite knowing better. And though their fate was inevitable, Theo was never prepared for when Blaise made him profess to their faults. Lately, it seemed to be happening more frequently than he was comfortable with.

"Just before I was hit, when Narcissa fell—" Blaise clenched his jaw as he spoke.

Remembering that night was difficult, not because the memories weren't there, but because they were all too vivid. A black cloak running across the lush gardens of the Malfoy Manor. A flash of green suffocating him from the inside out. Wrongness crept into his veins whenever he dwelled on it for too long.

"I'd never seen _him_ like that. It was worse than the first time—than last year."

"But despite seeing him that way, you still think it would've done him good if we'd told him?"

"Not him," Blaise admitted grimly. "But me."

"Draco was devastated," Theo said. "He would've gone on a blind rampage if we told him then, shooting curses at anyone who looked even mildly suspicious. I mean, there's only so much a man can take. You know how he is."

"Yeah, I know," Blaise sighed. "But it'll be worse now. Having hid it from him for this long."

Theo frowned, Padma's instructions shooting into his head, uninvited.

_All we need you to do is get him to work with us._

"What are the chances of him no longer being in the vengeful and void stage of grief? It's been a while, don't you think?"

"Oh, he's definitely grown out of it. I reckon he's in the joyful and affectionate stage by now. Maybe he'll even give us a big hug when we see him."

Theo gave Blaise a look of pure distaste. "Being an honorary muggle has made you rather insufferable, you know that?"

Blaise didn't have it in him to reach over to hit him upside the head. "Get used to it. I've been soaking in the curse long enough...who even knows if it's reversible at this point."

Or if it was reversible at all.

That was a fear that Blaise kept within him since the day his wand gave up on him. His nonchalant disposition masking the unsettling panic he woke with every morning, when thoughts of leaving the Wizarding World behind consumed him. To leave all his friends behind—to be denied a place in the very community families like his built out of prestige and labor. To be seen as nothing but a squib in the eyes of those who raised him.

No.

Blaise couldn't accept that. There had to be a way back. Draco had to know something that would help. Why else would the Ministry seek him so desperately?

"Patil told me you're meeting with Draco after the New Year. To try and convince him to help them."

"Why is Patil telling you these things?" Theo huffed.

Blaise raised a brow. "What problem could you possibly have with the lead investigator of my case...telling me information about my case...of which she's leading?"

Theo stood from the chaise, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nothing. No problem here."

Smirking, Blaise shook his head. As cryptic and obscure as he aimed to be, especially amongst the ranks of men like Draco and Blaise, Theo was as easy to read as a book left wide open in broad daylight. Contempt...curiosity...amusement. Theo's eyes always gave him away.

"Enough of all this heavy talk." Theo said, suddenly agitated. "Let's go get some breakfast. I'm starving."

Blaise snickered, watching as Theo grabbed his briefcase from the table. "I'm sure you are."

Theo drew his wand from his pocket, waving it in the direction of Blaise's bedroom.

_"Accio coat."_

Theo caught the black peacoat, tossing it to Blaise. Shrugging it over his shoulders, Blaise followed Theo to the front door, grabbing his keys and putting them into his pocket.

The two men stepped into the miniature lobby that divided Blaise's apartment from his neighbor's. It was a well decorated room with a large bay window that faced the front of the building, the park in full view.

Closing the door behind him, Blaise heard the satisfying click of the lock. He turned to face Theo who stood in the middle of the lobby with his hands shoved into his coat pockets. He looked at the metal doors unsurely.

"How do you summon this thing? The escalator?"

"Elevator," Blaise corrected, walking towards him. "Press the bottom button. It'll come up on its own."

Theo pursed his lips, pressing a finger to the button. Blaise had learned much about the muggle world over the last three months. He'd thoroughly impressed himself by his own knowledge, though he never had anyone to show it off to. It wasn't exactly an accomplishment to master the ways of muggles where Blaise was from.

"Next time you come over, I'll need you to place a silencing charm on the apartment."

"Yeah, no," Theo said, shaking his head. "Potter already made this building Apparition proof—"

"For my safety," Blaise reminded him.

"A knock on your door won't kill you. We can't even send owls to your place, which is precisely why I've been designated to be your correspondent to the Ministry. I'm not giving you an opportunity to ignore me."

"Wow," Blaise mused. "The Ministry really found a way to make you it's bi—"

The sound of a door slamming shut reverberated through the lobby, making the men turn away from each other like children who'd been caught stealing cookies before dinner.

Theo glanced at Blaise, mouthing quietly. "Act natural."

Blaise rolled his eyes. With his posture too rigid and jaw shut tight, Theo looked needlessly unsettled.

"Relax!" Blaise shot back in a whisper. Theo dropped his shoulders a fraction, staring intently at the unopened elevator doors.

Footsteps clicked across the marble floors, approaching the men from behind. They ceased suddenly, overpowered by a voice that could only be described as mellow and warm.

"Oh—Blaise! Good morning!"

Turning at the sound of his name, Blaise was met with a bright smile and an enthusiastic little wave of a pink gloved hand. Her long dark hair was tucked protectively under a matching pink hat, decorated with two white pom-poms on either side of her head.

The girl he'd kept from cracking her joints against concrete.

"Good morning, Nava," Blaise smiled. Her smile grew even wider at his greeting. Her eyes skated over to Theo who had his back towards her.

"Good morning to you, too! Sorry, I didn't catch your name last time..."

Blaise elbowed Theo inconspicuously, making him turn around to face her. As soon as he did, his initial apprehension melted away.

Blaise bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. He knew the exact reason behind Theo's reaction, only because he had done the very same the first time he met her.

"Sorry about that. I was lost in thought," he chuckled. Blaise hid his surprise as he watched Theo hold out his hand, a slight smirk playing at his lips. "I'm Theo. Nice to finally meet you. The last time we did was a bit...hectic to say the least."

Nava took it, shaking it lightly. "Tell me about it. Have you ever heard of windows breaking on a single floor? Much less from poor powerlines? Strange if you ask me."

The boys laughed along with her, hiding their unease seamlessly.

"It's a good thing no one got badly hurt, though," Blaise said.

"That's another miracle in itself," she remarked. The strap of her purse began sliding down her shoulder, distracting her long enough to give Theo a chance to throw Blaise a flustered glare.

"How long have you guys been waiting for the elevator? We might be better off taking the stairs to be quite honest. It always takes ages to get to the top floor."

"Just a few minutes, really."

Nava nodded, her lips mouthing a soft _oh_. "I think I'll take the steps then. I'm in a bit of rush to get back to my apartment, but it was nice seeing you two again. Have a lovely New Year!"

Theo gave her a genuine smile, dipping his chin in acknowledgement.

"You as well," Blaise said, returning her wave.

They watched as Nava turned on her heel, heading towards the door across from the elevators. Once again, the sound of her shoes walking away from them was overpowered. This time by the aggressive whirring of the elevator approaching the fifth floor.

Nava turned around quicker than they could turn away from her. "Oh, it's here—"

It happened quickly. Her curiosity transitioned into something else, her eyes widening as she looked at them.

No. Not them.

Past them.

_"Stupefy."_

A flash of red flew between Theo and Blaise, hitting Nava squarely in the chest. Blaise watched in horror as the girl was taken off her feet, her head cracking against the wall behind her. She slid down to the floor in a crumpled heap, a mess of black tendrils hiding her unconscious face.

Her hat lay by Theo's shoe.

Theo drew his wand, throwing his arm back. A hand, adorned with a single black and silver signet ring, shot up to hold his wrist in place, rendering him defenseless. His wand arm went slack, paling at the sight of Nava's attacker.

"Now," he drawled, his steely eyes moving from Theo to Blaise. "Whose brilliant idea was it to keep me in the dark?"

Blaise steadied his breath, his expression darkening as he faced him.

"Long time no see, Draco."


	4. Four.

It wasn't often that Harry Potter visited the county of Wiltshire. In fact, he very much avoided it, considering him and his friends had nearly met their end there six years prior.

His most recent trips hadn't been much better, but at the very least, he never felt the threat of death looming over his head. Just a slight concern at the thought of being transfigured into a decorative peacock destined to roam the lush gardens of the particular estate he was required to visit. Though, even that didn't seem so terrible; it may have pained him to admit, but Malfoy Manor was undeniably charming.

"Think he'll be in a good mood?" Padma Patil eyed the manor ahead of her, perched perfectly atop an emerald hill.

"I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of seeing him in a good mood."

"Oh, I don't think that's true." Padma shook her head, strands of dark hair falling over her eyes. "Don't you remember that one time in fifth year? When you fainted? I think he was genuinely happy about that."

"Right," Harry remembered not so fondly. "Thanks for reminding me."

They continued along the winding trail, approaching the wrought iron gate within minutes. The gate itself stood two stories high, fused in the center with a handsome insignia. Two dragons perched on either side of a black and green crest, a silver banner inscribed below a garish letter M.

_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper._

"Purity will always conquer," Padma translated.

Harry looked mildly impressed. "How'd you know that?"

"I reckon there was a reason I was sorted into Ravenclaw."

"No need to be fresh with me," he grumbled.

Padma smirked, returning her gaze to the gates before them. "Let's get to it, then. I haven't got all day. The Department of International Magical Cooperation is holding a conference in an hour and Peasegoode will have my head if I'm not there on time."

Harry nodded, recalling the bald man with a terrible temper who served as Padma's department head. Even Harry refused to get on his bad side.

"Just follow my movements, but don't say anything," he instructed. Padma nodded, watching him closely.

Drawing his wand from his pocket, Harry held it out in front of him. He waited for Padma to do the same, until both their wands were pointed directly at the insignia.

_"Permeo placerum."_

A steady white fog swirled from the end of their wands, veiling them until they could no longer see ahead.

"Ah," Padma whispered knowingly. " A deception charm."

_State your names._

The voice that spoke in their heads was not a voice; it was more akin to a disembodied thought.

"Harry James Potter."

"Padma Patil."

The fog enveloped them, a cooling sensation trickling into their lungs. It wasn't uncomfortable, but Harry couldn't help but grow unsettled by the feeling.

_You may enter._

The deception charm cleared almost instantaneously, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the sun warmed his skin once more.

"I hate that charm."

"Really? I quite like it. It's rather detoxifying," Padma grinned. "Plus, it also means he's less likely to throw a jinx once he sees us."

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you."

The gates opened soundlessly, the property revealing itself in all its glory.

"Oh my," Padma breathed. "Look at that!"

Harry already knew what Padma was pointing towards before he even saw it. The handsome white peacock that roamed the grounds of Malfoy Manor moved elegantly, weaving through rows of perfectly groomed shrubbery. The strange silver blossoms that adorned the hedges emitted an intoxicating fragrance, making Harry a little less anxious.

"Harry, quit dragging your feet. I haven't got all day!"

Harry looked up to see Padma hurrying forward, only meters away from the front door.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're rather enthusiastic—"

Padma whipped around quicker than he could blink, her wand angled dangerously.

"If you're insinuating that I'm excited to see Malfoy after all these years, Harry, they'll be the last words you speak for the next week."

"Erm—" Harry cleared his throat, the magnitude of Padma's glare making him choke on air. "Never mind."

"That's what I thought."

He let Padma widen the distance between them, eying her cautiously. During his youth, most of his exposure to the Patil twins had been through Parvati, which had been unavoidable considering she'd been in Gryffindor alongside him. Padma quickly took her place, and in a more meaningful way than her sister had ever been.

Since joining the Ministry as an Auror three years prior, Padma had somehow managed to become an unofficial resource during his investigations. Her keen eye for detail and ability to intimidate muggles and wizards alike made her an asset to Harry. He was sure the sentiment was mutual considering how often Padma found herself thinking out loud to him when presented with new cases of her own.

"Remind me again why we're not just waiting for Nott to do this? He did say he'd send correspondence after the New Year. Why drag him into your office if this is what you were going to do anyway?"

Padma didn't turn around to face him before answering. "Because Marietta Edgecombe's younger brother came to visit me yesterday. She's been missing since Christmas."

"And you think her disappearance has something to do with Zabini and Narcissa Malfoy?"

Padma turned around this time, a gleam in her eye. "Oh, I'm sure of it."

"Can I ask why?"

"No. I don't want to repeat myself twice, so just pay attention when I tell Malfoy."

Harry refrained from sighing audibly. He didn't have the mental capacity to start an argument so early in the day.

"Nott's going to be angry when he finds out," Harry said.

Theo had already been more than upset at the idea of approaching Draco Malfoy in the first place, but to go ahead take it upon themselves after all but begging him to do so? He was going to be livid.

"He'll get over it," Padma replied curtly. "Waiting for him to grow the balls to approach Malfoy will put us even further behind than we already are."

Harry pursed his lips; even he couldn't disagree with that. They'd lost six months of critical investigation time because of Blaise and Theo; the Malfoy men had become all but reclusive after the death of their matriarch. The Ministry's leads were devastatingly unstable, with nothing left to do aside from and brasher tactics.

"Alright, Harry," Padma said, giving him a small smile. They'd finally arrived at the intricately carved entrance made of stone and wood. "Are you ready to sell your soul to the devil?"

She asked as if he had a choice.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

**⁂**

After a year of keeping his distance from his former friend, Theo had often found himself wondering what their eventual reunion would entail. Perhaps a chance encounter at a birthday party, somewhere with a lot of people to ensure a civil and controlled discussion; he'd even considered an intervention from their mutual friend Blaise, but that option had been all but decimated once Blaise got cursed.

Blaise, having removed himself from the wizarding world entirely, save for Theo, his mother and their new friends at the Ministry, there was just no room to let anyone else in on their secret.

Especially not Draco Malfoy.

But of all the scenarios he had entertained himself with over the months, never did Theo think he would meet him in the lobby of a muggle apartment complex at ten in the morning on a Tuesday.

The very sight of him was too bizarre to fathom. He looked _wrong_ coming out of an elevator, despite the fact that he had been seconds away from doing the same. But it seemed Draco's anger was enough for him to justify the inconvenience.

"We were going to tell you—"

Theo was cut off, his wand flying from his grasp as Draco tossed his wrist away. Theo clenched his fist, not breaking eye contact with the man. Draco's reaction was tamer than what they deserved. Theo and Blaise couldn't deny that.

"Don't you dare," the blond said between gritted teeth. " _I'll deal with you later_."

Too stunned to respond, Theo watched as Draco grabbed Blaise by the collar of his coat. Within seconds they were gone, having Disapparated with a sharp _pop!_

Just like that, their much anticipated reunion was over.

"Bloody hell," Theo whispered to himself, wide eyed. His mind was reeling, thoughts repeating themselves as he tried to figure out a justifiable reason for the bomb that had just been ignited.

Patil.

He needed to talk to her. Surely, she would know what was going on. She _always k_ new what was going on. As infuriating as she was, Theo couldn't deny her usefulness.

Turning to grab his wand from where it had fallen, he came to a halt. His eyes zeroed in on the pink winter hat by his feet, blinking slowly as another inconvenience presented itself.

The unconscious muggle woman. _Nava._

Running a hand through his hair, he made his way to where she lay, gingerly placing his hands on either side of her to prop her against the wall. Her head lolled from one shoulder to the other, her breaths shallow.

If he left her in the lobby, it would leave too many questions unanswered for the muggles who would eventually find her. If he used the Reviving Spell on her, he'd have to follow it up with a memory charm.

He ignored the sense of guilt that washed over him, raising his wand to her chest.

_"Rennervate."_

He waited for her to lift her head, prepared to Obliviate her as soon as she did. Tapping his fingers on his knee, he let seconds turn to minutes. She remained motionless.

"Well, shit."

Admittedly, she had hit her head pretty hard. Her inability to come back from the stunning spell had more to do with a physical injury she had probably sustained.

Letting out an exasperated groan, he shoved her hat into his coat pocket and readjusted his hold on his briefcase. Slipping his arm under Nava's legs, he placed the other on her back. It didn't take much to hoist himself up with the weight of her in his arms; she was surprisingly flimsy.

Heading back to Blaise's apartment, he unlocked the door with his wand, kicking it shut behind him. He set Nava down on the chaise he had been lounging on just minutes before, eyeing her with a frown. He couldn't risk her waking up in Blaise' apartment while he went to get help.

"Sorry." He pointed his wand at her chest for a second time. _"Stupefy."_

Her body jerked upwards only to rest back on to the chaise. He made a face, pausing to look her over once more.

Was that supposed to happen? He wasn't sure; he'd never stunned someone who was already unconscious.

Wearily placing his index finger under her nose, his shoulders relaxed. She was still breathing.

_Thank Merlin._

"I'll be right back," Theo assured her. She didn't answer back.

Giving the apartment a once over, he grabbed his wand and rushed out the door.

**⁂**

Theo was out of breath by the time he found Padma. She had been in the office of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, engrossed in an animated conversation with Adrian Pucey.

As soon as she caught sight of Theo, her eyes flashed knowingly, her burgundy painted lips suddenly downturned. She leaned forward, standing on her toes to whisper something into Adrian's ear.

Something about the way she turned to look back at Theo rubbed him the wrong way. Bending his head low, Adrian murmured something back before walking off with a pompous stride.

Theo decided he'd bring that up during less trying times.

"Nott," Padma greeted curtly, stepping forward. "What brings you here?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Something tells me you already know why."

"Dabbling in divination, are we?" She crossed her arms. "I'm no mindreader, Nott. Stop wasting my time."

"You wouldn't happen to know why Draco showed up to Blaise's apartment, mouthing off about _keeping him in the dark_?"

"Ah," Padma said, pursing her lips. "I remember now. Harry and I went to Malfoy Manor today. Had quite a civil conversation with Malfoy. You didn't give him enough credit, to be quite honest—he was a lot more even tempered than you made him out to be."

Anger coursed through him, his jaw sore from clenching too hard.

"Tell that to the incapacitated muggle in Blaise's apartment," he spat.

Padma's features diluted with immediate concern. "What? What muggle?"

"One of the neighbors. She was trying to get on the elevator and—BAM!" Padma flinched as Theo gestured animatedly. "Stupefied the poor thing. Sent her straight into the wall, headfirst."

Padma bit her lip, her brows furrowed. "Well, did you revive her?!"

"Precisely why I'm here, Patil" he snapped. "She didn't wake up. I had to stun her again and leave her at Blaise's. So if you could kindly come with me and help sort out this bloody mess that you created, it would be much appreciated."

"I—" Padma closed her mouth, visibly bothered but smart enough to know she wouldn't win this one. "—you stunned her again?!"

Theo paused, his temper subsiding momentarily. "You know, I had a strong feeling that I shouldn't have, but I did. Is that bad?"

Padma rubbed her temples, launching herself forward. She grabbed Theo's sleeve, pulling him alongside her.

"Of course it's bad! It's terrible! I wouldn't be surprised if you gave her a concussion on top of the one she already had!"

"She wouldn't have a concussion in the first place if you had just let me talk to Draco, which you literally asked me to do! What kind of person sabotages their own plan?"

"I do!" Padma retorted, unashamed.

He hadn't expected her to admit to it so bluntly. Theo shook his sleeve from her grasp, suddenly aware of how unenthusiastic he was by the way she led him through the halls. He felt like a delinquent.

"Grow up, Nott. Pureblood sentiments are so 1998."

Theo blinked slowly, his irritation growing by the second. "That's not why—"

"Whatever," she said, rolling her eyes. She pocketed her hands, her navy robes swishing behind her just a bit more aggressive than before. "Where're Malfoy and Zabini now? In the apartment?"

Theo's laugh was hollow, earning a dirty look from Padma. The very thought of Draco and Blaise hashing it out in the living room with an incapacitated muggle girl splayed out on the sofa was hilarious.

"He Disapparated out of there with Blaise to...Merlin knows where," he scoffed. "Which reminds me—I thought you said Potter put up wards on the building. Why the hell have I been climbing up and down the stairs of that building when Draco just poofed out of there without issue?"

"Malfoy is an exception."

"What?" Theo whipped his head to face her. "Why?"

"Because I'm madly in love with him," Padma simpered, placing a hand to her heart. Watching Theo's expression contort, she dropped her hand. "The wards are Anti-Apparition only, you _idiot_. Disapparate to your heart's content. Though, judging by how you were wheezing moments ago, I'd encourage you to stick to the stairs."

"I wasn't wheezing," Theo muttered, scowling.

"Were too."

Brooding, he followed her all the way to the Atrium, the only space in the Ministry where Anti-Apparition and Anti-Disapparition wards didn't apply. Catching Padma off guard, he hooked his arm with hers, giving her an expectant look.

"You've never been to his place," he explained. "I'll take us."

She straightened her back. "Right."

Ignoring the curious stares from their colleagues, Theo felt Padma grasp his bicep with a second hand, all but leaning into him. Looking over, he was surprised to see her eyes shut as she braced herself.

So the famed Padma Patil did have a weakness. One he couldn't even use against her.

"Take a deep breath and hold it in your chest," he said quietly. "It'll keep you from getting dizzy."

Padma gave him a sideways glance, but nodded. "Okay. Ready when you are."

Waiting for her to take an audible breath, her grip even firmer than before, Theo tapped his wand against his thigh before moving his wrist in a swift circular motion. Suddenly, the familiar feeling of being squeezed through a narrow tube overcame them, lasting approximately three seconds.

They were the longest three seconds of Padma's life.

Padma emitted a sharp gasp as their feet hit the pavement. They had landed just beside Barlow Square, on an empty pathway that led to the back of the complex. Unable to steady herself, she lurched forward, stopped only by Theo's firm grasp on her robes.

"Can you be any more embarrassing?"

"Actually, yes," Padma said, clamping her hand over her mouth. She ran over to a nearby bush, the sound of her heaving disturbingly apparent.

Theo grimaced, turning away to give her privacy. "Merlin, woman."

Padma shuffled her way back to him, looking sallow and defeated. "For future reference, does Zabini have a fireplace?"

"He doesn't."

Her shoulders slumped. "Bus it is."

Padma let Theo lead her through the building, impressed by the interior of the main lobby; it was best described as modern opulence with a feminine touch, decked out in beige tones and crystal fixtures.

Arriving to the fifth floor, Theo led her to the rightmost door across the miniature lobby.

Apartment 5B.

"Well, here's hoping she's still out cold."

"Here's hoping she's not," Padma glared. _"Alohomora."_

The door unlocked with a distinct click. Padma all but rushed in; she could see the girl's legs visibly hanging off the chaise from where she stood.

Theo watched from a safe distance, not because he wanted to give her space, but because he was almost positive Padma would strike him as retribution for his poor sense of damage control.

"You wouldn't happen to know her name, would you?" Padma asked, kneeling beside the girl. She remained exactly where Theo had left her, her cream colored jacket and pink gloves conflicting with the black and mahogany color scheme of Blaise's apartment.

"Nava," Theo said a little too quickly.

Padma raised a perfectly arched brow. "You bothered to learn a muggle's name? I'm impressed."

He wasn't sure if that was a compliment or an insult. It felt more like the latter.

"Is it so hard to believe I'm a changed man?" Theo huffed. "That maybe we all are?"

"Kind of," she said, not looking up from her work. She moved her wand from the girl's temple, down to her chest, and then back up to the center of her forehead. She repeated this three times.

"Believe what you want," he frowned. He didn't have anything to prove.

Padma didn't seem to hear him, looking up at him with brighter eyes than she had before she'd entered the apartment.

"I've got good news and bad news."

"What's the good news?"

"She's not dead."

"Oh, thank goodness," Theo said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "What's the bad news?"

"She's got a moderate concussion."

"And what makes that bad?"

"I can't obliviate her once when she wakes up. That'll take her straight to brain damage territory."

Theo paled. "That is bad."

Padma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She paced across the room, glancing at Nava every few seconds as she weighed their options.

"How sure are you that she even saw Malfoy? Right before he stunned her?"

Theo thought back to that moment in the lobby. He'd been looking straight at Nava when it happened. He'd seen her face change, soft features overwhelmed with momentary alarm. In her defense, it was a justified reaction to seeing Draco Malfoy in Theo's humble opinion.

"She saw him," he confirmed grimly. "It's possible she only reacted because she saw him raise his arm. She can't have known what it was he was pointing at her."

Padma nodded, agreeing with him. "Anyone woman would be nervous if a strange man pointed something obscure in her direction."

"So what do we do?"

Theo could see the wheels turning in her head, her hand resting on her hip as she immersed herself in her own thoughts.

"We have to push the narrative," she said suddenly, tossing her hands in the air. "Our narrative."

Theo knit his brows together, leaning against the wall. "Our narrative? And what narrative is that?"

"That she passed out on her own accord and that I, a kind woman who just so happened to pass by, found her and stayed with her till she came to." Padma gave him a smug smile, thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Why can't I be the one that finds her?" he asked.

"How terrified would she be to have been found unconscious by a man she doesn't know?" Padma retorted. "She'd only be more suspicious of you—use your brain, Nott!"

She had a point.

"Okay, I'll give you that. But what about Draco? If she saw him, she'd remember him...and us as the last thing she saw. Wouldn't that make her suspicious, too?"

"Simple. I make it seem as if I found her somewhere else. We'll put her outside in the grass or something. She'll have no choice but to disconnect the two events, if she remembers it at all."

Theo was having a hard time being fully convinced. He'd been spoiled, having relied on magic and the insurance it provided. Resorting to the fragile muggle tactics was more than unfamiliar to him.

"And you're positive we can't just alter her memory?"

"We could, but we'd probably have to hold her captive for a couple of days until she's no longer concussed," Padma replied casually.

Theo rubbed the back of his neck. He was growing tired of running out of options so frequently.

"If you're sure this won't come back to bite me in the arse," Theo said, sighing deeply. "Let's get to it then."

"Lovely," Padma grinned, shoving her wand in her robe. The sight of her eagerly bounding across the room reestablished a fraction of the confidence he'd lost.

"Now," she announced brightly. "Help me take her body out to the back of the building and make sure no one sees."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I think it's from this chapter on that we'll start to see more of Nava and Draco. I know we've been more focused on Blaise, Theo, Padma and even a lil bit of Harry, but they're just as important to the story as our main protagonists!
> 
> So please let me know what you think so far! I would really love to know your thoughts.
> 
> <3 Trish


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